Trance to the Dance Tune
by Allekha
Summary: In Detroit, JJ tries to impress Yuuri at a party. That leads, unexpectedly, to dancing and making out. (Pre-canon, JJ/Yuuri)


A/N: This fic is based on the time that JJ trained with Celestino. I'm not sure how well the timeline really works here, but eh. JJ is not yet dating Isabella.

Written for the prompt 'party' on the holiday-prompts prompt table.

* * *

This was not the kind of holiday party JJ was used to.

All the ones he'd been to before were tamer things, a few friends, some relatives, no alcohol, lots of snacks. This one was far more crowded, with music playing, and some of those drinks were definitely alcoholic, although JJ was pretty sure that the drinking age on this side of the border was younger than most of the guests. It was a different vibe – not bad, though.

He'd found some other skaters to talk to for a bit, before the group had broken up. Drifting through the crowd, JJ spotted someone he already knew: Phichit Chulanont, sitting next to Yuuri, also from the rink.

He went over to say hi, and Yuuri held JJ's phone so he and Phichit could take a photo together for Instagram but shook his head when invited into the shot. "Thanks, Yuuri," Phichit said.

They might have been rinkmates, at least for now, but Yuuri didn't really talk to him much. It wasn't for lack of trying on JJ's part; he'd invited him out a few times, only to get turned down, and tried to start up a mini complaint session about their coach, only for Yuuri to tell him he didn't think there was anything wrong with what Celestino had said. But why let that get in the way of being friendly?

Phichit left to go talk to someone else calling his name, leaving the two of them in the corner. Yuuri was soft-spoken, at least compared to the Americans, and the careful way he reached for his drink suggested that he'd had a fair few more than JJ had.

He was cute, too, and more familiar when he took off his glasses to wipe the lenses. He didn't wear them when he was skating.

Yuuri slid his glasses back on, blinked at him, and didn't say anything. Maybe he was actually shy? JJ could work with that. He filled the space between them, first with chatter about how he was getting on here in Detroit with Celestino, and then his plans for the rest of the season and what he wanted to work on at the rink.

Yuuri didn't say much, but eventually he peered at him and asked, his words a little slurred, "Are you trying to impress me?"

"Um." Shit, was he being that obvious? JJ didn't usually have to try. People were just impressed by him. The fact that Yuuri wasn't made him more interesting, in a weird way. "Well, is it working?"

"There are better ways than that, you know," Yuuri said, smiling lopsidedly, and he stood and offered a hand. JJ looked at it and considered it.

It wasn't a sin to just flirt a little, was it? Probably not. Otherwise, how would anyone figure out what they liked? And he did like Yuuri's dark eyes, the way his black hair was falling across his forehead. JJ took his hand and pulled him out into the group of people dancing.

JJ thought he was a pretty good dancer. JJ thought he would be the one leading. JJ thought – but it turned out all of that was painfully wrong.

Yuuri, for all of his inconsistency on the ice, nearly at JJ's level sometimes and far below it at others, turned out to be one hell of a dancer. JJ, for once, couldn't keep up. He could tell that Yuuri was drunk, but it didn't seem like he'd lost any of his co-ordination at all as he led JJ back and forth. It was JJ who was struggling not to fall into him.

And it was JJ who tired first. He did his best; they danced for what felt like hours. Phichit, laughing, came by to take a few blurry pictures of them. Man, no wonder he was close to Yuuri if this was what he was like outside of skating.

Eventually, though, he had to haul Yuuri off the dance floor, too winded to continue. They stumbled into a wall. Yuuri caught himself on JJ's arm and blinked at him rapidly, his glasses sliding down his nose.

And then he apparently decided that JJ wanted him to kiss him. Well. In retrospect, he wasn't wrong.

They found a dark hallway corner to make out in, away from the bustle of the party. Yuuri took off his glasses and shoved his hands in JJ's hair. From how he always acted – from how he'd been acting earlier – JJ would have thought he would have been sweet and shy, the kind that needed to be seduced, but he was wrong about that, too. Yuuri was the one who pinned him to the wall. Yuuri was the one who started tugging at his shirt first. Yuuri was the one who pulled away, his cheeks all red, to ask if JJ wanted to go back to his place.

JJ knew that he ought to say no. But he didn't _want_ to. Dancing with and then making out with Yuuri had to rank as one of his best experiences since coming to Detroit a few months ago.

And if it went beyond making out – okay, there had to be things that they could do that wouldn't count as real sex, right? Like if they just used their hands, that would just be a kind of masturbation, and maybe that wasn't great, either, but JJ could feel guilty about that next year. JJ hadn't had much to drink. He could keep himself under control and make sure things got done his way.

"Sure," he said, ignoring the little voice in his head that was whispering things about temptation and sin. Yuuri gave him a wobbly grin and pulled him out into the cold.


End file.
